And despite growing to love and appreciate her gran at last, this time nothing was going to stop her.
Chapter Three
Sam
Sam had forgotten how beautiful Mapleberry could be in autumn. She’d been here since August, when the sun had set late in the evening and the days and nights were layered with warmth and fresh breezes. But this morning she observed, as she walked from the house to the Mapleberry Mug, where she’d been working for exactly a month today, the leaves were starting to turn and the weather no longer let her venture out without at least a cardigan over her jeans and shirt. The sun took almost as long as she did to wake up now, and by the time she started work the high street was groaning its way into operation. Shop doorways were unlocked and ready for custom, parking spaces on either side of the road began to fill and voices rang out along the street. In another hour schoolchildren would pass by to get to their own daily grind, a handful popping into the café for a trendy takeaway coffee they’d most likely have to finish before they were allowed in the school gates.
The morning in the café got off to a brisk start, but the rush didn’t send her into a blind panic as it had done on her first couple of shifts. She’d been lost here on day one, not knowing where anything was, let alone how to make a cappuccino, flat white or a long black. But she was getting the hang of it now, working five days a week rather than four, and although not her dream job, it was money coming in and it was time away from the house that was beginning to suffocate her as much now as it had when she was a teenager. Last night she’d needed to escape so badly she’d got in touch with her boss Clare on the off chance she was interested in meeting up and at Clare’s suggestion they’d taken themselves off to the tiny local independent cinema Sam was surprised hadn’t closed down years ago, but there it was, a welcome respite from the tensions at home. With a bucket of popcorn, they’d lost themselves in a movie and followed it up with a glass of wine over at the pub, and although Sam missed her best friend Jilly, Clare was becoming a close confidante already.
Her mother had started to change when Sam was around eleven years old and Sam remembered some of it all too vividly. There’d been the time Veronica didn’t show up to watch her represent the school in the school cross-country championships. Sam had come tenth overall, run her little heart out and crossed the finish line with a smile on her face. She’d looked over to see her dad applauding, so proud. But there’d been no sign of her mum, and Sam had felt the absence more than she’d let on. Veronica was still working and managed to get out of the house for that, but couldn’t seem to turn up for her own daughter. Sam had heard her parents rowing about it the second they got home, ripping even more of her glory away with every word slung at each other. But she hadn’t blamed her dad – he was livid on her behalf.
The next time it happened was when her mum refused to leave the house to attend parents’ evening one year. Sam was to choose her options and it was an important time, discussing subjects, what she struggled with, what she particularly excelled in. Her dad had hauled her mum to the car and ordered her to get out at the school and Sam knew more than one other parent had witnessed the embarrassing display. She’d been mortified, but at least her mum didn’t say much during the talks with the teachers; Sam and her dad had led the conversation. There’d been stony silence all the way home and then another almighty row. Sam had always appreciated how much her dad stood up for her; he was in control, he wasn’t going to let this affect his daughter. Sam would never forget the way he looked out for her. And after he died and the more her mum retreated, the more Sam felt trapped in the house. It was as though she had the opposite of what her mum had; not agoraphobia but the need to not be within the four walls of the house, at least not when she was there, which was all the time. She still went to work, but came straight home and on her days off she never socialised. Sam learnt quickly to make sure she checked her mum’s schedule and be out when she was in, in when she was out.
Now, even if she didn’t feel the same level of desperation, this job was still her solace.
She busied herself serving drinks and snacks as the schoolkids rushed in. When they finally had a lull her boss asked, ‘How’s Audrey doing at school? She settling in?’
‘She seems to be, at least as far as I know. She doesn’t talk to me much.’
Clare, the kind of boss who didn’t shy away from mucking in with other staff, stacked fresh cups on top of the coffee machine. Flame-red hair tied back, she yelled into the kitchen to let Monty know that the wholesaler’s van had pulled
